


Eclipsing hope

by Samstar1990



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5390633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samstar1990/pseuds/Samstar1990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything seemed to be finally on the up for Hawke as he settled into Kirkwall an its odd way of living. But all that changed as the sky turned red and a shooting star begins a chain of events which will change the rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The day the sky fell

Panting heavily Hawke collapsed to the ground, his staff digging into it to steady himself even a little. What had happened here today? One moment the sky was deep red as a star seemed to fall from the sky and shook the earth, a shock wave of wind and earth that had knocked them prone, the next moment the Qunari rose from within the walls they had built by the docks and stampeded through the streets. They had regressed to an animalistic nature, and instead of an organised army it felt like Kirkwall had become the nesting ground of dragons.

He had become separated from the others in the chaos but he, Merrill and Anders had managed to stick together forming a Mage circle - back to back - in order to hold off the beasts as much as they could, but it seemed to take more energy than usual. He’d put it down to the adrenaline of the chaotic event but in this moment of reflection it felt unnatural and the thought made him uneasy.

To his left the elf had collapsed, she was trying to return the smile to her face but the battle had left her shaking, and on his right Anders; who had somehow managed to stay on his feet but now he looked as white as snow itself. There the three sat in silence as the ruins of the battlefield shifted and the innocent need to survive emerged like flowers after the fire.

“What just happened?” Garret groaned trying once again to stand and this time was successful, enabling him to survey the blood soaked streets with corpses piled high. “This is more madness than I thought would occur, we should see if we all survived…”

He turned looking towards the two who he knew were in some way safe, however he found Merrill looking worried over something on her wrist and he decided to approach. He made no question, but she heard his worry in his approach.

“Sorry… I was listening I swear.” She kept her cheerfulness up as perfect as she could whilst she recovered her energy, and she tried to pull the wrist away from him. He made a noise and a hand motion to request her to confide in him.

“After the running of the horns we just went through, I would rather we be more upfront with anything else new, ok?”

There was a pause before she nodded and pulled back the fabric revealing her skin. It was a shiny blue colour almost like it had cooled in temperature. There were some crystals too. 

Garret frowned and turned to Anders calling his attention. He looked over to them, at least seeming to be with it. “Ever seen anything like this before?” The man paused and looked over the wrist.

“If I didn’t know any better I would say that is Lyrium.” He muttered glancing at his hand in thought. “Oh…” Garret had begun to turn away when he heard the ‘oh’. 

“Oh?” He asked turning back and meeting the other’s eye. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

Anders repositioned himself by shifting his weight onto his staff and revealed the palms of his hand. The same infliction that was on Merrill lay on the pale skin, the discolouration was more prominent on the sickly man’s flesh.

Seeing it dropped a heavy lead weight into Hawke’s stomach and down to his feet until it met his hand. The gauntlets felt like they fit the same and nothing seemed out of place. Nervously he put his staff up against the wall and reached up to undo the buckles that secured the armour in place, slipping it off and over his wrist, his eyes going wide as the metal slipped from his fingers and dropped to the ground. 

Crystals lined veins of blue sat against his pealing blue skin. It did seem similar to Lyrium. The same buzz and glow of the magical substance but where was the burning that came with it? The pain?

The instant death?

Something seemed wrong with the situation. His heart beat faster when the falling of rubble caught his attention and the three mages grappled to get back into a defensive positioning. Someone was headed their way.

Anders gritted his teeth. It seemed they had more of a stand to make, it was like a tsunami; the waves of Qunari getting smaller but each a tiring work on the mind and body. He was the defence of the party in that moment and even though he felt closer to death than life at the moment he pushed himself up to stand. He could feel his body shaking heavily against him trying to force him down to recover and he was ready to agree.

Just one more spell…

He began chanting as he rose his staff as high as his arm would allow

Just one more…

He felt the wash of the barrier forming and the weird sickly sensation accompanied with the itching and stretching of the skin he was becoming accustom to.

One more…

And down he collapsed, his body thanking him whilst his stomach wanted to punish him.

Merrill watched the process and it forced her to tears. She was at her limit and the poor girl just wanted a moment to break down, however a creaking sound broke her out of her own self-pity and directed her to a sight that caused her to force down a developing scream. The palm outstretched in her direction; the one that Ander’s had shown them was developing crystals, in that moment the crystals were growing as the top layer of skin pealed and split under the pressure of growth. It was enveloping the body as he cast his spell.

She knew magic had risks but this was a new kind of hell, a new form of twisted punishment caused by the thing which fell from the heavens. That curse. She turned away from the man, feeling unclean and gripping her staff tighter to stop herself from attacking the affliction on her hand. Once the battle was done she needed to bathe badly, this whole endeavour leaving thick grime on her body.

The solid lump of unease that had settled in their throats did not slip away as the rumbles turned to shifting, piles of rubble falling away as they were disturbed. It was then they saw the first glimpse of who approached; a large Qunari head appeared over the pile and stopped. It appeared to survey them for a brief moment, like it was sizing them up.

The three prepared themselves the best they could, but nothing could have prepared them when they saw the head launch itself into the air free from a body. It sailed high in an arc leaving the mages in stunned silence before it accelerated downwards and hit the floor with a smack, breaking the skull in two and spraying the content within in all directions. Blood, brain and bile mixed together into a sludge which managed to become quite pungent almost immediately.

Hawke took a step backwards staring down at where his gauntlet lay now littered in the offending material, he heard Merrill scream loudly and succumb to the tears she had been holding back, and he turned to her - dragging the elf towards his chest in an attempt to calm her. Anders on the other hand lost the fight with his stomach, but had the decency and strength to turn away from the party as he did. This day was a trying one to say the least.

After a few moments Garret realised he could hear hearty laughter, but it unnerved him greatly. He knew the voice was familiar and the tone it was taking was unforgiving. Looking over his shoulder towards in time to see the Rivaini sliding down a pile of rubble, or at least he believed it to be his friend, he was only certain it was her when she spoke.

“So this is where you three have been hiding.” Isabella teased replacing a dagger to her belt.

Her appearance was not reminiscent of the pirate’s usual charm; the white shirt had obtained so much blood the excess was pouring down her legs and up the inside of her arms where she rested them against her body. Her hair was a wild mess, her bandana lost, and her right boot missing completely.

“Looks like someone has been enjoying themselves.” Garret muttered, feeling protective of the crying girl in his arms and remained a solid wall between the two afraid it would put Merrill over the edge.

“What can I say? I got into it, people got saved and I got myself a pretty trophy or two.” She pointed to the makeshift rope belt she’d fashioned on her hip and tied around a series of horns. The first few seemed cut clean but slowly had the appearance of being ripped from the skull. “Still haven’t found my ultimate prize but the day is young, right?” 

She was giggling when she looked down at the smashed skull on the ground between them. Sauntering over with a malicious grin she crouched down and took a large handful of the mush that remained in the skull fragments. The sound itself was horrific against his ears as it squelched and dripped like jellied eel, and Garret watched as she brought it to her eye level and closed her hand, squeezing out the mush with a look of pure pleasure on her face. 

“See? The Qun turns the brain to mush, like a disease, whatever is happening is a beautiful punishment for everything they did.”

Garret cleared his throat of the lump that was there. “Isabella, don’t you think this is going too far?” Her face fell almost instantly and the darkness behind her eyes dropped the temperature around them. 

“Too. Far?” Her question felt like a heavily patronising weight on his shoulders. “They herd their own like cattle, yet scoff at the world for trying to be whatever it wants! They kill anyone who has a strong enough will to question how barbaric they truly are!” She stepped forward, the stench of death on her overwhelming. “I’m only doing to them what they do to others. It’s only fair,” she smiled. 

“I mean, whatever fell from the sky. It punished them, sure, but I just know I’m meant to finish the job.” Isabella looked down at Merrill who had turned away from the situation and smirked. “Don’t worry though. The world is changing, it won’t take long to get used to it.” There was an overhanging silence as the pirate continued her walk pass them. “I’ll meet you back at your house later, yeah? Once I find the bastard I want on my wall.”

Hawke gritted his teeth to hold back anymore words. Something was terribly wrong here but without proof or cause he couldn’t act, especially if it were against someone he considered a friend.

“What do we do now?” Merrill’s small voice cut through the silence, pushing away from the Hawke so she could look him in the eye. “Should we go back to your home?” 

“To be honest, based on what is happening, I would feel better if we managed to find the others in one whole, sane piece.”   
Ander’s grunted as he managed to push his body to stand, finally having some energy to do so despite the fact he had somehow gotten paler. “I suppose given the situation, optimism is the only sure thing we have left.”

The mage was more right then he could ever imagine. The city had not just been torn about by bull and horn, but by the very people that were living there. Some looted the abandoned homes whilst others let themselves become unhinged and tried to destroy themselves and those they could touch. Others fled to the chantry for protection, only to be met with boarded doors; the cleric and sisters locking themselves within and praying to the maker for relief and guidance.

No one had even noticed the man curled up in the corner, grunting and fitting against himself digging clawed mitts into the earth as he tried to gain some form of control over his wracked body. Blue veins glowed bright and burned unforgivingly.  
“Where is that bitch?!” He hissed, trying to somehow move and failing against the flashes of white and red in his vision. One moment he was with that pirate and when he turned she was gone. She had been acting suspiciously as well, at least to his knowledge, so perhaps this was her work after all. He wasn’t even sure when the aggression on his body had begun, but he was sure that the constant battle had blinded him from it.

Only when he stopped fighting did the burning begin. One minute he was standing, and the next he was on the floor, feeling like his skin was stretching to fit bone and muscle that was somehow increasing in size. Like his body was the wrong shape for the flesh tacked to his bones. When his vision wasn’t white it was blurred and beyond the blue glow of his body he could make out the shapes of soldiers; Templars perhaps, protecting the people whose religion had turned on them. Or at least those that had the courage to stand. Aveline was in there somewhere he just knew it, and despite his dislike of relying on others, he knew in this state he needed some form of protection just long enough to recover from… whatever this bastard thing happening was!  
He fought against the sound of something creaking and cracking, and crawled along the floor feeling the earth build up against his armour before the straps gave way and fell away from his body. Reaching the courtyard he finally collapsed and curled up again, tears falling unbidden from him as he continued to curse his existence, before one final crack somewhere along his spine dragged a large scream from his wrecked throat.

His vision returned to him as he became numb, and he was met a flurry of concerned eyes and voices. Fenris could have sworn he knew them, but whether they were friend or foe he could not say. All he knew was he vulnerable and unable to move. Fortunately it was friend that had him but not in the way he had imagined: the Knight Captain taking charge where the Knight Commander had fled.

“Find me the Captain of the Guard! Now!” He yelled, as soldier both by profession and by volunteer tried to comprehend the orders they were receiving considering the thing that was giving them.

“Am I speaking Tevene or something?! Find me that woman, Maker be damned! And find me someone who might have an idea of how you deal with… this kind of infliction! A mage! A sister! A necromancer! Anything that can help!”

The man knelt down by the ex-slave. “Your wannabe hero of a friend owes me for this…” He scoffed even though from the dilated look in the other’s eyes he was certain there was no one listening to him. Unsure what really to do, he brought up his shield should the worst happen and the crazed mob make it to them both. “Let’s hope he lives to repay me…”


	2. Monsters

Aveline was angry; angry and exhausted and fed up with the bullshit already. She was fed up with the deserters and berserkers and the stupid religious supporters who were barricaded away. 

"They can rot with the maker if they wish it." Aveline remembered the words she spoke well as she snapped at the messenger. "We will protect any and all who need it."

Once the street had grown silent she could not help but feel uneasy in the equilibrium. It almost felt like it was too soon for celebration. She was sure the horned beast that had been a cancerous tumour whose removal had been long over due meant relief was needed, but celebration seemed premature. The arrival of a young Templar recruit made her relax, she knew she was correct and that the moment of peace was but an eye in the storm. The boy, however, looked ill in his Templar armour; he had paled and there wer blue dots littered across the skin like off coloured freckles. They glinted in the sunlight that was trying to pierce the large storm clouds over the city.

"Are you ok recruit?" She inquired, looking the boy's face up and down. He was panting heavily, but managed to stand straight and salute the woman of standing in the ranks.

"Knight captain Cullen requests your presence m'lady."

"Ooh." This was odd to say the least, as surely the Templars had more important tasks in the city than to bother to the city guard. "And you yourself are feeling ok?" 

He seemed to blink confused at the question, "A little exhausted from the fight, but apart from that I am in good health. Maker be praised."

It was apparent the man had no idea of the affliction of his skin and, not wanting to hurt the man in such high spirits, she brushed it off requesting to be shown to her summoner. The boy obliged confidently, it was almost a breath of fresh air to see another in such merriment despite the world falling down around him, although the red headed woman wagered it was more of a defence mechanism than his true feelings in the moment.

Soon enough she was brought before a house near the chantry that had not collapsed. A camp was also forming where soldiers were tending to the wounded, alongside a few members of the chantry that had escaped from the windows to offer help and prayer to the desperate. Many were crying out how the Black City had broken the Fade and the punishment of the Maker was upon them. 

Opening the door inside there were several mages stood conversing with the Templars. It was another odd moment, and the feeling that accompanied it left strange tastes in her mouth. It was heartbreaking to think it took the world falling down around them to talk peacefully.

"Ah, Captain of the guard I am glad you made it." the Templar known as Cullen parted the crowd with his authority alone. He crossed over the building towards the woman, and her attempts to read his expression failed. Not that he had concealed his emotions, more that he seemed to be feeling several at once so it was hard to pinpoint one of them.

"How can I help you Knight Captain?"

"Please call me Cullen, at the end of the world titles mean very little." He told her, raising his hand to try and express some form of casual request. He too seemed to be suffering from the strange blue freckles.

"Why did you ask for me Cullen?" She responded before feeling embarrassed, "I guess you may call me Aveline." 

It would have be awkward otherwise.

"Oh, well, we found something... Erm I mean someone that you know." He explained, "However he too is experiencing some foreign strain of virus." He scratched his face, "Obviously we all seem affected one way or another but he... Well he is something completely off the charts."

This worried the woman greatly. Someone she knew was afflicted because of the hell of the outside world, and before she realised what had happened she became aware she was already moving. The home the people had settled in was destroyed just as much as any other under the reins of the apocalypse; many Templar soldiers had set up around the healer to be looked over for their new appearance. At least the men and women had noticed the spots, however they were not deemed dangerous as of yet; rumours of Lyrium spots were spreading fast, and as the rumours died down from her hearing they were replaced with the occasional scream.

This continued to make Aveline more uncomfortable, all sort of demonic fantasies beginning to plague her mind. She knew well she was letting her imagination get the better of her but, as the room of the inflicted was finally revealed, she began to wish her demonic fantasies were the reality.

Fenris had been strapped down on the table, large shards of red crystal had sprouted from his body along the lines of Lyrium along his skin. It was almost like a fungus. He seemed to be lucid and gone completely, murmuring and muttering before bursting into high pitched and ear crushing screams then petering down again. Her stomach lunged at the state of him, and she had truly not expected him to be in such a pained state. Healers were around his bedside praying and infusing the air with healing herbs.

"How long as he been like this?"

"I found him crawling along the floor as the crystals burst from his skin. He lost consciousness and since then his fever has spiked, and our healers are unsure if he will survive or what his survival will bring."

There was a long silence as the message sunk in.

"Has there been any word of Hawke?" Aveline asked bringing a hand to her face in thought. The other shook his head and she sighed, "I think it would be for the best if we could bring him here. I don't want to make any arrangements only to find out something worse has happened."

"We can send word but I don't know how long things will stay peaceful," Cullen admitted, "People believe this is the end and who knows how long it will take before a riot breaks out."

Aveline nodded, "Then do it. I can offer my help to set up a camp and defences for those who wish to be civil."

Hearing Cullen refer to a nearby scout she found, she was left alone with her thoughts. Swallowing hard to try and clear the lump in her throat, began to move forward towards the table. Reaching the side she looked the elf up and down, hearing his muttering and realising how delirious he had become in the moment.

"Pain, pain, falling from the sky like stars that burn the magic into our hearts whether we like it or not." Fenris began. "The corruption sets deep, accept it and accept the monster in you."

The second muttering is what freaked her the most. It was like talking to Anders when that spirit was brought into the equation, like hearing two different personalities speaking through the same mouth. She placed a hand on the table near to the elf; his eyes shot open and she jumped. His pupils were dilated but they slowly began to focus and he turned his head towards the city guard. As he met her eye an uncomfortable shock travelled down her spine.

"Aveline." He whispered, "Aveline, Aveline, Aveline." 

He rambled on and on just her name as he seemed to get more and more tearful like all his brain could only process who was in front of him before something snapped and he blinked becoming more lucid.

"Fenris?" She asked leaning over him. Fenris looked to her and then around the room, his face neutral, which was weird to see but slowly the scowl returned crumpling his face back into the familiar expression before he roared again. This time he sounded frustrated instead of the pain of before.

"Untie me. Untie me from this fucking table I still have a fucking Rivaini pirate bitch to debowel!" He yelled squirming and kicking with little success. He still also seemed unaware of the red spires protruding from his flesh.

"Fenris calm down this instance there are more important things than you anger problems!" Aveline yelled over him, although inside the feeling of relief spread across her. At least for now Fenris appeared normal. He stared at her like she had offered him Tevinter whores.

"What would you know? That bitch left me as soon as the horned bastards were dealt with!" He growled, "I heard her laugh as I collapsed and did nothing to help."

"I am sure you are right but right now you are... You are ill and that is more important."

He clearly looked confused.

"Release me." He spoke much calmer then before and she hesitated. "Please."

Believing it to be a bad idea, Aveline went against her better judgement and, taking her dagger from her waist, sliced the binds holding him. He looked more fragile in that one sentence then he ever had, keeping him from the truth would have only made things worse.

The elf pushed himself up to sit and realised instantly; he felt stiff and his movements felt clunky. He had a bad feeling it was connected to the searing white fire of pain that forced him into unconsciousness.

"Do I look different?" He was met with nothing but silence and his small but slowly building fear feed the flames of his anger. "Well?! Is there something fucking wrong with me?!" He yelled growling, at the city guard as she continued to hold her tongue. He raised his hand ready for a fight when a silver slither of light caused him to realise there was a mirror in the room. 

The hand slowly lowered as he tried to steady his emotions.

It took him a moment to process each movement. He slid off the table, past the red headed woman over to the corner of the room where the old full length mirror lay on its side. The glass was broken and splintered across the floor, but from the cracked pane he could see his own broken appearance. A shaky hand moved over the Lyrium tattoos that scarred him and over the deep red crystals that forced themselves upwards. In that moment his felt himself lose his voice and at the same time release it in one loud breath.

He was a monster.

The messenger Cullen sent out searched high and low across the battlefield until he came across Hawke and company. They slowly herded themselves through the broken streets trying to rebuild what had been dragged from them in the battle, whilst at the same time holding together what they still managed to keep on them. Merrill continued to stick close to Garret in these moments, her silence suggested she had thrown herself into the labyrinth of her mind and had yet to return from it. Garret missed her chattering and he prayed continuously that there was still a chance it was all a dream. Anders hobbled along behind the the best he could; the man continued to act as if he had aged years with each step he took.

"Excuse me Sers, are any of you Garret Hawke?" The messenger approached slowly.

Hawke turned to him looking tired but he nodded. "Please tell me you are here to tell me good news."

The messenger swallowed hard, "The Captain of the Guard requests your presence near the chantry."

Hearing Aveline was okay helped Hawke to feel better in the moment. She was a strong woman and he knew that out of everyone she could help get them through this hell. He nodded acknowledging the message.

"Could you possibly lead the way? Sorry but I am kind of turned around in the rubble."

The messenger honoured the request with pleasure it seemed.

As each step came in front of the other, Hawke wondered if he really was as lost as he claimed to be. He realised he was in a state of denial and hiding it poorly from the people around him. Ever since he and his family came to Kirkwall, he was relied on for everything and to make sure they got by, all the while hearing them complain about his efforts and be unthankful. Yet he would not have changed those moments for the world. Who'd have thought those were better and simpler times to reflect on? That, coupled with the denial, meant it wasn't that he was lost in the city he had grown to be apart of, more that he refused to accept the rubble as the city itself. All in all, to his hidden heart he was in a new frightening place and all he wanted to do was be told he could go home and nothing was different.

He laughed bitterly at the déjàvu of the moment. He never expected to feel like this again.

His reflection led to him ponder on a lighter time when life was simpler. Him, his mother and his siblings back in the Lothering of Ferelden. The Blight that swallowed the lands did not deter them from sticking together. The first tear broke free at the memory of Bethany, the two had bonded so many times over their Mage abilities, sure he had not shared her enthusiasm for meditation under the sisters, but he felt her kinship. Her lifeless body filled his vision, at least she had not lived to see this.

He, Carver and his mother made home here and he hoped they had found some form of protection from the cruel world. Carver he knew was with the wardens thanks to Anders, he prayed his mother had gone to meet him.

Loud coughing brought him back to reality as the small group turned to greet it.

Blondie coughed heavily and when he threw back his head, the eerie blue eyes of Justice stared at them but the expression was blank. Cracks formed from the eyes downwards across his cheeks and then down his neck; there was the sound of cracking as it progressed until it seemed to reverse on itself. The skin repaired itself and the blue shot back into the eyes before it expelled upwards and seemed to be drawn away into the sky. Silence followed as the man stood lifeless.

There was a pause of uncertainty before the Mage finally collapsed under himself and into unconsciousness.


End file.
